Kidnapping
by Shadelyn
Summary: Alyxandra, a Malkavian, is kidnapped and Mike Karrde, a Garou, must track her down. PLEASE COMMENT!
1. Chapter 1

This story references two others, one story regarding the Sabbat (which is being written now) and a scene where Alyxandra and Alexander first meet.

5:30am

Working as a computer security consultant was a fantastic job: great paychecks for a few weeks' work, then plenty of down-time to enjoy those paychecks. While on the job, though, the hours were both long and odd.

With these thoughts in his head, Mike Karrde stifled a yawn that was threatening. In order to avoid causing disruption to his clients' normal work hours, Karrde had had to do the system upgrade overnight, working from just after closing to now, five in the morning. Staying up all night was actually the norm around his house, but the day before had been spent in endless planning sessions with the corporate technology specialists going over the last-minute details. There had been times when a thirty-six hour day wouldn't have even called for a cup of coffee, but now he was feeling like he hadn't slept in a month.

_I must be getting old,_ he thought.

Opening the front door immediately blew away any thoughts of sleep or tiredness he had.

The house was a shambles, items and knick-knacks thrown around and smashed. The drawers of the office filing cabinets were dumped on the floor, the desk drawers empty.

Karrde moved through the house, being wary not to disturb anything. From the scents of the scene, he knew this wasn't going to be a case for the police, but there could be a lot to be discovered in this kind of mess. Even though he carried a handgun with very special ammunition, he didn't reach for it. He could draw and fire faster than almost any human, so it wasn't a concern. Watching his step, Karrde started to make his way upstairs, where Alyxandra should be. He wasn't worried yet. There was no doubt that Alyx could take care of herself. But he'd picked up the traces of at least three, possibly as many as five intruders. No, he wasn't worried, but he was starting to get concerned.

At the top of the stairs, Karrde noticed all of the doors were open. At this time of morning, even late in the summer, the master bedroom door should have been closed, blacking out the room. It was close to bedtime for Alyx, but the door was wide open. Moving around the door frame slowly, Karrde looked and saw that the room was empty. That's when the scent hit his nose: Blood. At least three different people had bled in that room. One of the scents he knew as well as he knew his own name.

Alyx had been hurt, but he had no idea how bad. And now she was gone.

Michael Karrde, Werewolf of the Glass Walker tribe and husband to a vampire, moved through concern and went right past worried.

Someone had taken his wife. Michael Karrde was pissed.


	2. Chapter 2

The girl was held in the chair with heavy iron chains. She looked to be the farthest thing from a threat you could ever find, but the vampire standing guard behind her, the one with the severely dislocated shoulder, had learned how wrong that assumption was. The woman coming in through the door had survived to reach her position by being cautious, so she didn't mind the chains.

The woman motioned briskly with one hand and the guards turned and left by the other door. After she heard the door lock from the outside, she picked up the folder on the desk. As the Primogen of the Tremere Clan in St. Louis, Cynthia Deevers had access to information from around the world. She also knew how to make the best use of that information.

"Katherine Alexandra Ramsey," she read aloud with a faint British accent. "Born in Hollywood, California. Embraced at age 19, sire unknown. Sister of Verena Alexis Ramsey. How interesting. Let's talk about your sister, Katherine, shall we?"

"Katherine's dead," was the only response.

"Ah…ah, yes, there is a note here. Alyxandra, then. May I call you Alyx?"

"I don't think so. That's what my friends call me."

"You sister took something very valuable to me, Alyxandra, and I want it back."

Alyx looked uninterested as she looked up, studying her captor.

"Well, did you ask her for it?" she asked. "If you didn't ask nicely, Verena can get very grumpy and stubborn. Personally, I don't think she's all there in the head, but you could try asking again. Maybe if you say 'pretty please with…'"

Alyx was cut off by the vicious backhand across her mouth.

"Your sister is dead, you stupid little bint. How am I supposed to ask her anything?"

Alyx looked at the Tremere as though that were the stupidest question she'd ever heard. She didn't say anything, though, since her tongue was busy checking for loose teeth and tasting the blood she let trickle from her split lip onto the floor.

"No," Deevers continued, "I believe your sister gave you my property. So, Ms. Ramsey, either you can tell me what I want to know or you can get comfortable, because you won't be leaving until I get what belongs to me."

"Hrmph… we'll just have to see what my big puppy has to say about that."

Deevers glanced at the girl, trying to tell if she really thought some stray mutt would help here. She shrugged, disregarding the lunatic's ravings.

"As threats go, Ms. Ramsey, puppies are about the least thing I'd be afraid of."

"Really?" Alyx said, sincerely intrigued. "Huh…"


	3. Chapter 3

6:38p

Karrde had spent most of the day cleaning the house and working the phone. What he really wanted to do was to get out and start hunting for his wife, but the first step on that hunt had to wait until later tonight.

He had left the bedroom alone for now. The traces of blood he'd found confused him more than anything. Aside from Alyxandra's blood, he'd also found blood from at least one other vampire, maybe two. The last one, though…it was the strangest. It was the blood of a Garou, and it wasn't his. Aside from himself, he didn't know too many werewolves that would work with vampires.

"Hey, Mike, what about this server issue in the old headquarters building?"

Alexander Karrde was sitting at Mike's desk, going over the plans for the consulting job Mike had been working on. While not really a nephew, Alex was a Kinfolk – born with Glass Walker blood, but not a Garou himself – that Mike had adopted as a member of the family. Now, at age twenty-one, Alex was a partner in the consulting firm that Mike ran, and he was going to be taking over the current upgrade while Mike hunted for Alyxandra.

While they were going over the issues with older servers, Mike's cell phone rang.

"Karrde," he said, flipping the phone open.

"He'll meet you tonight," the voice on the other end said. "Be at the club, nine-thirty." And the line went dead.

"You'll get her back, Mike. I have no doubt about it. And she'll be fine until you do. I'm certain she knows how to take care of herself."

That was high praise for his wife coming from this young man. He and Alyxandra had gotten off to a rocky start from the moment she'd pulled a butcher knife on him for 'stealing her name.' Mike had gotten that settled down without bloodshed. Since then, they'd tolerated each other, but they would never be friends.

"Thanks, Alex. Keep things running around here, will ya? I need to go for a walk before dark."


	4. Chapter 4

9:25p

Karrde walked into the Riverwatch Club, a large, three-story building on the edge of the Mississippi River. The second and third stories each jutted out a little more like a reverse stairway.

The first floor was the public part of the club. The only lights were the stage lights and the glow-sticks on the dance floor. In the dim light, Karrde saw a few heads turn his way. Those would be the vampires in the crowd, and they were wary of him. Not that he could blame them. Most Garou considered the Kindred tainted by the Wyrm and would kill them on sight. Karrde wouldn't shed any tears over a dead vamp – most of them, anyway – but he wouldn't go out of his way to take one down in the street, either.

The second floor was a much more exclusive clientele. Karrde walked down a hall with half a dozen rooms, the doors open on scenes of glazed-eyed men and women with vampires feeding from them. Normally a town the size of Riverton wouldn't support so many vampires, but the Prince of the city had the club opened as a Haven for Kindred traveling through the area. At the end of the hall was a big open lounge area, the entire west wall made of panes of glass that gave a stunning view of the river. Karrde knew the glass was specially tempered to keep out ultraviolet light, and there were emergency shutters in case of any unforeseen occurrences. On the wall opposite the windows, Karrde was led up a set of stairs to the private offices on the third floor.

The third floor was a private suite of rooms. The owner of the club lived here, with all the amenities he could want, including the full kitchen services downstairs. All of the rooms had their doors closed, though, to keep out prying eyes. The hall led down a ways to another set of double doors that were floor-to-ceiling and seemed to be made of exceptionally old wood, polished to a glow. When his escort stopped outside the door, Karrde stood, forcing himself not to look around for the camera he knew was watching him. It wasn't paranoia in this case: He trusted the owner here. No, this was just professional curiosity from a security buff.

The vampire who was escorting him pressed a button on an intercom panel to the right of the doors.

"Mr. Karrde is here to see you, Sire," he said. There was no answer other than the sound of a very large bolt unlock the door. The escort gestured and Karrde pushed the doors open.

_Heavy doors, easy to swing_, he thought, making an instant assessment. _Steel-core and perfectly balanced. Should have expected nothing less._

Joseph Oberlin, Kindred of the Ventrue Clan and Prince of Riverton sat at a massive oak desk. The desk, an antique sideboard, and several heavy-looking bookcases made up the working end of the office, and all of it was sitting on a massive slab of glass or something, with a clear view of the river underneath.

"Mr. Karrde, please, come in," the Prince said, coming to his feet. Walking around the desk, he gestured at the service setting on the sideboard. "Would you like a drink? I'd have to imagine you could use one, and this is an excellent scotch I had commissioned in '54."

"Thank you, Sire. Yes, I could use a drink."

"Please, call me Joseph," Oberlin said, dropping a few cubes of ice into a tumbler before pouring the drinks. "You're not a Kindred and I wouldn't expect you to follow the same protocol."

"Respect where it's due is the way I was raised, sir," Karrde said, taking his drink and settling into the offered chair. The chair and one like it sat facing a couch across a coffee table in front of the desk area. Karrde was reminded of the sitting area of the Oval Office he had seen in movies and TV shows. Oberlin took a seat on the couch.

"I'll tell you, Mr. Karrde, I was very hesitant when you and your wife moved to my city, and I played hell getting the Primogen council not to override me and throw you out. Everyone was nervous about a Garou in town, but you've proven to me that I made the right choice. I appreciate that," he added with a smile.

"I grew up here, well before my change. Alyx and I wanted to get away from conflicts and soap operas that our races tend to create. I'm grateful for your trust, and I really hate being here now, dragging you into something that shouldn't have happened to begin with."

"You're certain it was a vampire that attacked?"

"Yes, sir. There were at least two vampires and one Garou. I found traces of Alyx's blood, also, but I know she got a few licks in." The note of pride in his voice was evident, even through the anger.

"I would know about it if it were any of mine. With all the Kindred that pass through….I don't know, Michael. I try to keep then under watch, but I can't vouch for all of them. I'll do everything I can to help of course, but if it was someone just passing through…" He gave a helpless shrug, obviously uncomfortable. A Kindred Prince feeling helpless in his own city was bad. A Kindred Prince who actually _was_ helpless in his own city could be extremely dangerous.

Just then, Karrde's phone rang.

"Excuse me, sir, I have to take this," he said, getting up and walking back toward the hall. The caller ID said it was Alexander.

"Mike, I just got a call from Nicky down in St. Louis. He got it from one of his people that a group just came back into town with a blonde, trussed like a Christmas goose. He doesn't have a location yet, but he's working on it."

"All right, Alex. Thank you. If you can get him, tell Nicky to be careful. I'm sure I'll being seeing him soon."

"Go get 'em, Mike," and the line disconnected.

"Sire, I've got a lead. It looks like Alyxandra was just spotted being brought into St. Louis. One of our – I mean, a Glass Walker – contacts that I trust saw her. He's working to get the location for me, so I'm going to pack a bag and head south."

"Do me a favor, go see this man," the Prince said, handing over a note he'd just made. "He'll give you some equipment after I make a call. Before you head out, come back and see me. I told you that I'd help any way I can, and I mean it."

Taking the proffered hand, Karrde made his way back down and out of the club. Unseen by the werewolf, a vampire inside stepped out the door behind him and watched him leave, then pulled out his cell phone.

"Stokes, its Grady. It looks like Karrde just got some news, because he's leaving in a hurry."


	5. Chapter 5

The man with the tangled mop of red hair dropped to his knees as the blow landed across his face.

"Idiot!" Cynthia Deevers said, her voice deathly soft. "Why wasn't I informed that she was…_wed_…to a Garou?"

Rising to his feet, the red-head worked his jaw a bit.

"What difference does it make? He wasn't there when we nabbed her, and I can't see how he can find her."

"You are an idiot," she said again. "You, of all people, should know that a Garou can tell the different scents of blood. You _should_ know of the fierce loyalty that a werewolf possesses, but I guess a Ronin has no loyalty to anyone."

"Watch your tone," he growled. "I may be Ronin, but I'm the only one who's done anything on this operation. If it wasn't for me, your men would have either gotten themselves killed or would have killed her."

"Yes, Mr. Stokes, and you've been amply rewarded for your services. Since you brought it up, though, I do want to ask a question. I told you I wanted Ramsey unharmed, yet there is a large gash across her thigh. Why is that?"

The big man, Stokes, snorted.

"You'll have to ask her. That crazy bitch was so busy trying to tear your boys up, she ended up slicing her own leg open. Damn near looked like she did it on purpose, the way she flipped the blood around."

"What? That's insane, why would someone shed their own blood if it was obvious they weren't going to be…." Deevers trailed off, and a look of realization moved across her eyes. Turning, she snapped at one of her flunkies.

"Move Ramsey, NOW! Get her out to the yacht and make sure no one – and I mean _no one_ – sees you."

"What'd I miss?" Stokes asked.

"Only the obvious, as usual, you moron." Deevers began packing up her files on her desk and slipped on a smart-looking suit jacket. "Ramsey cut herself and spread her blood as a calling card to her Garou bastard. She spilled some of her blood in the other room, too, but I didn't think anything of it. She's leaving a trail."

"Can't we just…I don't know, clean it up? Gallon of bleach or something?"

"The more you talk, Stokes, the less regard I have for you. As a werewolf, you should know you can't hide a scent from a Garou. Especially in this case, since it's a scent he'd be so familiar with. You messed up, Stokes. I told you to take her quietly, not to leave traces. And that was before I even knew she had anyone else in her life. He might have assumed she was just missing, wandered off. One could hope for the best. Now, though," she said, fury in her eyes, "now he knows she was taken against her will, and I guarantee he's going to be looking for her."


	6. Chapter 6

Karrde walked up to the door and hit the buzzer. Without a word, the door swung open and a fluorescent light came on, showing another anonymous hallway.

_Vampires and their abandoned warehouses,_ he thought as he went in.

When he reached the end of the hall, though, he found a scene that was anything but abandoned.

Computer monitors, televisions, oscilloscopes, weapons, vehicles, mechanics tools, and three sharp-looking Humvees filled the space. Seated at one of the work benches was a hulking man, hunched over and working on a very small circuit board.

"Come in," he said without looking up, "but don't touch anything. I'll be will you in just a minute."

Karrde walked around a little bit, looking at this and that. The trucks were modified military vehicles, armored with the distinctive sloped back end, not custom commercial versions. They were rigged with full communications arrays, including radio, satellite phones, computers with wireless connections. They also had silver-edged blades on the bumpers. Oh, it was powder-coated to match the flat-black bumpers, but Karrde could tell silver, and he wasn't going to touch it to confirm his suspicion.

He was fascinated by the weapons locker area. You name it, it was there: Blades, handguns, rifles, shotguns, and several things that Karrde wasn't even sure of. There was one, item, though….

"Is that a Grand Klaive?" he asked, stunned. Klaives, like the one he had, were those rare Garou-sized knives made of silver with one purpose: to kill other Garou. A Grand Klaive was the same, but scaled up to sword size.

"Yup. Took it off a 'wolf that tried to take me out down in Albuquerque."

The man – vampire, Karrde noticed now that he was closer – was right behind him. Even with his trained senses, Karrde never knew he was there. All the more surprising was that the man was even bigger than he'd originally thought.

"You hunt Garou?" Karrde asked.

"Nah, I don't hunt much of anything. I'm an information junkie. This guy just didn't want to leave me alone." A shrug dismissed the fact that this guy had taken down a well-trained – as the Grand Klaive attested – Garou simply because he was annoyed. Karrde's assessment of the man raised by several points.

"So, Joe tells me you need some gear to go after some assholes down in the Loo?"

"Joe? Oh, you mean Joseph. I didn't think anyone would be that causal with their Prince."

"Me and Joe go back a ways. Boring story, but yeah, I still call him Joe, and he still calls me for the cases he needs help with. He gave me the run-down. Vamps and Garou, working together to nab your wife? That's just bizarre. Almost as crazy as a vamp and mutt being married."

"So you know who I am?"

"More what than who, but yeah. Just so we're even, I'm Danny Weber, Brujah. Don't sweat it. You don't try and take my head, I won't show you my silver collection. C'mon, I've got a truck loaded for ya. Joe said to give you what you need, here it is."

Danny led Mike to the third truck in the line. Painted is a semi-gloss black with flat black wheels and bumpers, it was a monster. It had the same plated silver blade sticking out from the bottom of the bumper.

"The bumper is at about knee level on a crinos, just below the waste on a homid form. The window are specially tinted to avoid the UV problems, so whenever you get your woman out, whatever time of day, get her in here and she'll be good. Hell, bring her home at noon, she can enjoy a day out for a change. Full comms, wireless internet, GPS positioning, hands-free cellphones. Full-on military computer access if you need that. Here, around back in the trunk area, I've loaded you with two shotguns, one with Dragon's Breath rounds, one with silver buck shot. Two Glocks in 10mm, loaded with silver rounds for every third shot. Anything else you need, I'm sure you can supply yourself. There's also a cooler in the back seat with four pints of good old A-Positive. If she's hurt, you may need it."

"What do I owe you for all this," Karrde asked. He had ample funds for several lifetimes, so that wasn't an issue.

"Nothing. My orders from upstairs are to give you what you need to show that, quote, 'Riverton is not a free-fire zone for anyone to run amok in.' I don't think Oberlin's very happy about vamps coming in and causing grief." Danny handed the keys over. "He did ask me to remind you to come back by the club before you get on the road. Good luck, kid. If ya need a hand, call me."

"Thanks, Danny. I'll treat her nice."

Karrde felt the rumble of the motor when he started it up. Pulling out of the garage, he drove back into town. This warehouse was out in the middle of farm country, so it was a trip all the way through town to get back to the Prince's club.

The town was mostly empty, not surprising since it was past midnight. There were a few folks still out, but the streets were clear. Karrde was alone with his thoughts as he drove, and that wasn't good. The more time he had to think, the more his anger built on itself.

Pulling back into the lot for the club, Karrde locked the truck and walked back into the club. Unlike the rest of the town, the Riverwatch was still packed to capacity. Karrde didn't wait for an escort as he made his way back to third floor, and, surprisingly, no one tried to stop him.

Oberlin was just hanging up the phone when Karrde walked into the office.

"St. Louis is run by a Gangrel named Erik Geier," the Prince started without preamble. "His official title is 'Arch Prince,' a joke from a couple of decades ago under a different Prince, but the title stuck. I just got off the phone with him, and he doesn't have any idea what's going on."

"Do you believe him," Karrde asked.

"Yeah. Erik hates the job. Gangrel can't stand being tied down that long, but he made a commitment when he led a revolt against the last Prince, a Tremere. That guy was running the city into the ground. Erik promised to straighten things up if he could get some support to take the other guy down. Anyway, yeah, I believe him because he's trying to make St. Louis respectable to Kindred again. This would certainly not be the way to do that."  
"Ok, then. Does he know I'm coming? I don't want to have any surprises when I get there, and I surely don't want them thinking I'm coming to start a war."

"No, the exact opposite, in fact. Being a Gangrel, Geier actually has a lot of respect for Garou. Feels something like a kinship with them. He's offered you the use of his personal apartment for however long you need to be in town. I would recommend, however, that you get there after dark, otherwise you might be waiting outside for a while."

"I understand. Thank you, sir."

"Karrde, you and your wife helped me keep this seat, and I don't forget things like that. If there's anything else, I'm at your disposal in this."

Karrde shook the Prince's hand and left. He hadn't thought about the Sabbat incursion into Riverton for years, but it was personal survival. If Oberlin wanted to be grateful, though, who was Karrde to argue?

He got back into the truck and headed for the highway.

It was time to start the hunt for real.


	7. Chapter 7

"Why don't you just tell me where it's at, and I won't have to keep hitting you."

Alyx chuckled.

"You call that hitting? Ok, I'll play along. Oh, no! Please don't hit me again…" the sarcasm was dripping.

"Your sister had a page from a text that was studied by Beckett himself. It has the details of a Blood Rite that will allow me to control any Gangrel I wish. I don't know why it came into Verena's possession, but when she was killed, it was never found. You are the only one it could have been given to."

"Can you tell me what it looks like? I mean, does it look like a recipe? 'Martha Stewart's Quick Meals for the Undead'? "

"I don't know what it looks like, you little twit," Deevers said. She was beginning to raise her voice, losing her calm. "I've never seen it."

"Well, I don't know, then. Verena had a lot of junk that she left laying around. I've got boxes and crates of stuff that might be hers. Want me to go home and get it? 'Cause I'll come right back…"

Deevers smacked the blonde woman again.

"Let's start again, shall we?"


	8. Chapter 8

Karrde arrived in St Louis just after two-thirty in the morning. He didn't go straight to the Prince's apartment, but rather to Lafayette Park. Here he met up with the men he had called on the way to the city.

One was an incredibly large black man with a full bushy beard and dressed in a heavy leather jacket. He was incredibly intimidating, even to Karrde. This was Christopher Lushenko, also called Keeper-of-Gateways, the Glass Walker leader in St. Louis.

The other man had a runner's build, trim and fit but dressed in baggy, ratty clothes. Under the worn, faded army field jacket, Karrde caught sight of a well-maintained handgun in a shoulder rig. This was Slick Nicky, a Glass Walker Kinfolk who had managed to get himself into the vampire society, hiring out as a thug, a guy that could take care of Kindred business during the daylight hours. This made him a great source of information, which is why he had seen Alyx brought into town.

"Mike, good to see you again," Nicky said, taking Karrde's hand.

"The notorious WarCry, we meet at last," said Lushenko in an incredibly deep voice. He was obviously sizing up Karrde to see if he thought the reputation was warranted.

"Keeper-of-Gateways, it's an honor to be in your domain."

"I must admit, WarCry, I'm not thrilled to have someone with such… close…personal connections to the Kindred. But you are a Glass Walker, so I'll offer what help I can."

"Thank you, sir. I'll do my best to leave without you noticing my presence. All I ask is to let me do what I need to without interference."

"I'll issue the command to the Sept. I do have other obligations tonight, so I'll leave you in the capable hands of Nicholas here."

With a small nod of the head, Lushenko turned and left.

"I hate it when he calls me that," Nicky mumbled. "At least he turned his back on you. That shows a lot of trust for him."

"What do ya have for me, Nicky?"

Nicky gestured with his head and started walking, Karrde falling into step with him.

"They had Alyx in a place out in Kirkwood, but they've moved her. I'm expecting something more solid tomorrow, but I did find out who has her. It's Cynthia Fuckin' Deevers, the Tremere Primogen. I don't know who your lady pissed off, son, but she's got some high heat coming down on her."

"That's all right, Nicky. My next stop is to talk with the boss leech here in town. If he's got a Primogen playing games behind his back, it could get real sloppy."

"You're going to Geier? You're a ballsy man. How do you know this isn't all his game you're playing?"  
"Oberlin up north got in touch with him, said he was on the up and up."

Nicky shook his head, disbelief and awe plain on his face.

"I don't know what you've done to get in so tight with the leeches, but I've been hanging around 'em for years and I'm barely trusted to walk into one of their bars."

"Well, save the life of a Prince or two and they'll let you in the door. I've got to run, Nicky. Geier's expecting me soon. You've got my number, so let me know if you've got any news. I won't call you, since I don't wanna blow your cover."

"Shoot straight, partner," Nicky said, grabbing Karrde's forearm, a sign reciprocated by Karrde. "Just remember to take off your shoes," he added, walking away laughing.


	9. Chapter 9

Karrde drove his truck to the Continental Life building and found that his name was on the 'approved guest' list for the underground secure parking garage. The doorman gave him a pass-key to use in the elevator to get to the penthouse.

A few years ago, the Continental was something of an embarrassment for the city. The building had been renovated from top to bottom, though, and was the centerpiece of a resurgent spirit in the neighborhood.

"Welcome into my home, Michael Karrde," came a soft yet sonorous voice as the elevator opened.

Karrde saw a living space transported straight out of Feudal Japan: paper and slat walls, minimal furniture, polished bamboo floors, and a mat just off to the right of the elevator for shoes.

_Thanks a ton for the warning, Nicky,_ Karrde thought.

All of the observations were made in the back of his mind, though, because in the center of the sweeping living room was a smaller man. He wasn't Asian, but he was dressed in traditional Japanese garb; forest green _uwagi_, a darker green _zubon_ with silver dragons, and a black _obi_ belt. Hands behind his back, Geier was the picture of serenity and calm wrapped around a powerful center of energy.

Karrde removed his boots before doing anything else, then turned to the Prince and gave a formal bow, not as a subservient to a superior, but as to a respected elder.

"Ah, Mr. Karrde, we're not nearly so formal," Geier said, though he did return the bow as dictated by courtesy. "Please come in, have a drink. I'm having tea, but I have sake, scotch, or whatever you'd like."

"I'll have a soda, please," Karrde said, stepping down into the conversation area. "I'm likely to be working soon and want to keep my edge honed. Excuse me for saying, sir, but you're not at all what I expected. You're more…"

"Civilized?" Geier said with a grin.

"I was going to say 'calm,' but yeah."

"I know, I know. Gangrel are supposed to be slathering wildmen, barely able to be brought out in public. Nearly as reprehensible as a Garou." He laughed.

"I suppose I get taken by stereotypes as much as the next man. Apologies if I offended."

"No, no. That is one stereotype that's honestly earned. What you see of me is fairly new. I had to find a way to reign myself in after I killed my second Primogen over a fairly minor failure. It was either that, or I'd have ended up with an uprising on my hands."

Karrde took a sip of his soda, seeing the opening and trying to find the right way of phrasing it.

"Sir, I have it from a trusted source that you may have something like that happening right now."

"Really?" the Prince said, sitting back on the low sofa.

"I have a contact here who's let me know that your Tremere Primogen is the one who kidnapped my wife. I haven't been able to figure out why, yet, but I know Alyxandra was recently moved from a Kirkwood home. I haven't found out where yet."

"Hmm," Geier said, contemplating. "Nicky is better informed than I thought. Oh, don't give me that look. Slick Nicky was a friend of mine when I was just a punk Gangrel on the street. As Prince, I have to know who's operating in my town. It didn't take more than a few bottles of Jack Daniels with 'my old pal' to learn he's a Kin of your tribe. I've got a few contacts that know him, so information he gathers comes to me, too. As long as he's just gathering information, he's no threat to me.

"But why Deevers? Cynthia Deevers was one of the first Primogen to support me as Prince. Why would she do something that could start a war?"

"I plan to ask her once I find her."

"I may know where that will be, but it will have to wait until tomorrow night, because I'm going with you." Geier laid out his theory. Even though he'd said he wouldn't, Karrde called Nicky to point him to the trail. Hopefully, by the next evening, they'd know for certain and be ready to move.


	10. Chapter 10

"Pretty little girl, you and me are gonna party real soon," Stokes told Alyx. "Yeah, we're gonna have a real good time."

"Are there gonna be hats?" she asked. "I love party hats. OOH! And the little streamer-noisemaker-things!"

Stokes chuckled and reached out to stroke her cheek. Before he could touch her he went flying, thrown against the far wall.

Deevers grabbed Alyxandra by the chin, looking her over for marks or wounds.

"What did he do to you?" the Tremere snarled.

"Nothin'," Alyx answered. "We were plannin' a party. I know it's probably rude since you already know, but I don't think you're going to get an invitation."

Deevers spun around and grabbed Stokes by the throat, nearly throwing him out of the room and followed him out.

"What the _hell_ were you doing in there? First, you told me you wanted this job because you enjoyed how much Ramsey feared you. That didn't look like fear to me!"

"Calm down," Stokes said, throwing off her grip. "She doesn't know me on sight, and I didn't exactly give her my business card, ya know?"

"I told you that you can have her when I've got what I want. If you want me to live up to that part of the deal, then stay the hell out of that room." Deevers was yelling now. "I won't have you destroying what little progress I've made, Stokes!"

The scream from the other room snapped both of their heads around and Cynthia realized the door had been left open in her haste. Now Ramsey knew that her personal demon was here in the flesh.

"Oh, shit."

Running back into the room, Deevers saw that Ramsey had her head down, muttering and rocking. There was no doubt if she hadn't been confined to the chair she would have been in a fetal position. Deevers leaned closer to hear what she was saying. She understood the words, but it still didn't make any sense.

"seven…thirteen...two forty-nine…seven…thirteen…two forty-nine"

S_tokes is here right outside the room behind the door touching me talking to me breathing on me looking at me._

_"Pull yourself together," not my voice but sounds like me. Right there coming in going to get me._

_"C'mon, Alyxandra. You're stronger than this." Definitely not me can't be…_

_"Verena? You can't be here, Verena. They're looking for you."_

_A laugh, but that's not funny._

_"They can't hurt me, kid sis. I'm dead, remember?"_

_"You are three minutes older than me! Don't call me kid sis! But I can't be strong, Ed Stokes is there, right past the door, touching, taunting…"_

_"So give 'em what they want."_

_"What?"_

_"Give them something, tell them where it's at!"_

_"How do I know this isn't some Tremere mindtrick?"_

_"Got me... it's your psychosis…"_

_"…"_

_"Trust me, kid sis… sides, something tells me that help is on the way."_

_"Fine… it's in number seven, chapter thirteen, page two forty-nine."_


	11. Chapter 11

"The yacht is called _Desafío_. She's anchored right there off the shore, to the south of the Arch." Nicky pointed out the boat and Karrde swung his binoculars to look.

It was just past one in the morning. He, Nicky, and Geier were in a room overlooking the Arch and the park, trying to get and understanding of the opposition.

"I've got it," Karrde said. "I don't see anyone in sight on the boat. The park looks empty, so…wait, there, in the trees just to the south of the Arch, someone's skulking around down there."

"That's gonna be Stokes," Nicky said. "He works the woods for security. Big dumb mutt of a Ronin. I think he's probably of Bone Gnawer blood, but even they don't claim him."

"So that's the werewolf who came into _my_ home?"

Nicky shrugged. "Unless Deevers has more than one working for her, I'd say it's a good bet."

"Good," Karrde said. His voice was frigid enough to send a chill down the spine of his allies. "You guys stay up here, give me about fifteen minutes to clear the dead wood down there, then follow me in."  
"As long as you don't kill Deevers, Karrde," the Prince said. "She's my responsibility."

With a nod, the Garou started for the door.

"Good luck out there, Karrde."

"It game time, Nicky…the name's WarCry."


	12. Chapter 12

Sticking to the shadows wasn't easy for a nine-foot-tall fairy-tale monster, especially one carrying a two foot long silver blade. Even so, WarCry managed to get within thirty yards of the other werewolf – Stokes, Nicky had said – before he even noticed. Unfortunately, that left enough time for Stokes to shift into a dark red crinos werewolf; not quite as tall as WarCry, he was still formidable.

Neither made a sound as they engaged.

Claws and teeth tearing, each trying to find an opening for a mortal strike, the two giants battled. Stokes made a lunge to tear out WarCry's throat and managed to get past the claws, but the silver-spiked collar made him pull back, nasty scorch marks around his muzzle as he snarled in pain.

Warcry kicked out with his right foot, lifting Stokes off the ground and sending him flying several feet to the ground. As he landed, he looked up and saw WarCry flying through the air to land on him, leading with the klaive. Stokes managed to roll fast enough to save his life, but instead of taking the blade through his chest, the silver sliced through the corded muscles of his left bicep. The cut smoldered as the arm hung slack.

Stokes lashed out with his right arm and scored his claws across WarCry's abdomen, drawing deep lines of red across the steel-grey fur. As he spun through the strike, WarCry tossed his klaive to his left hand and made his move.

The blade bit deep as it slashed across Stokes' back, laying open the flesh and slicing halfway through the spine. Stokes' legs went out from under him like a puppet with severed strings as he howled in pain.

Broken and bloodied, Stokes shifted back to human form and looked up at WarCry.

"Kill me," he begged. "Finish the job!"

WarCry, still in crinos form, spoke slowly to make himself understood.

"You'll be dead soon enough. I wouldn't be in such a rush."

With that, WarCry walked away, reaching down to wipe the blood off his klaive in the grass.

Behind him, he didn't see Stokes use his last working limb to pull a cellphone out of his pocket.

"Get me Krayven," he panted. With his last strength, he told the story of where to find WarCry.


	13. Chapter 13

It would have been safer to move through the yacht in crinos form, but WarCry didn't feel like crawling through halls and doors barely designed for a six foot man, let alone a nine foot monster. The klaive in his hand would suffice for anything that jumped out at him.

The first vampire he came to was in the lounge that led to the master suite. There were actually two, both sleeping, so they never moved when WarCry separated their heads from their bodies. That was when he caught the smell. Without missing a step, WarCry destroyed the door to the bedroom and strode through. There he found a vampire that he assumed to be Cynthia Deevers standing over Alyx, a large syringe in her hand. The syringe was full, so she hadn't given the injection yet.

Taking two strides, WarCry grabbed her by the throat and slammed her against the wall.

"What did you do to her?"

"Can't….talk…."

WarCry knew it wasn't a breathing issue, but he imagined crushing the vocal cords would make speaking a bit tough, so he loosed his grip…slightly.

"Special serum…acts as a sedative for vampires. She'll be waking up soon."

"Karrde, she's mine, let her go."

Looking over his shoulder, WarCry saw Erik Geier walk in. Nicky wasn't with him, probably back wherever it was he hid in town. He released his grip, letting Deevers slide the two feet back to the deck. He walked over and grabbed the chains holding his wife, snapping them with a twist.

"My Prince, this animal has invaded my Haven and…." Geier cut Deevers off with a wave of his hand.

"You will accompany me to my home, where the Primogen council is waiting to rule on your fate. You will come peacefully, or I will hire Mr. Karrde here to escort you."

Hanging her head, knowing her game was over, she mumbled, barely audible.

"I will come along, my Prince."

"Geier, wait. Alyx is coming around and has something to tell you."

Alyxandra raised her head, somewhat drunkenly.

"She wanted a text she thought I had…said it had a blood rite that would allow her to control any Gangrel. She thought my sister had it and gave it to me." With that, her head dropped back to her chest.

"I know what clan your wife is, Karrde," Geier started.

"Ventrue," Alyx mumbled. Karrde just gave a sad little grin and shook his head.

"Is she serious?" the Prince finished his thought.

"I can't say for certain, sir, but I will say, I don't think I've ever seen her that lucid."

The Arch Prince nodded as Karrde scooped his wife into his arms. He waved them through the door ahead of himself. As they made their way back into the lounge, Alyx's arm lashed out like a serpent and grabbed Deevers' shirt front, pulling the Tremere closer.

"What do you think of puppies now?"


	14. Chapter 14

EPILOGUE

Karrde drove back into town about two hours before sunrise. He smiled when he saw the old-fashioned sign welcoming folks to the town.

"Riverton – A Home for Everyone"

Geier and the Primogen council stood inside the observation deck of the Arch.

"If anyone disagrees, now would be the time to speak," Geier said. No one said a word. "So be it."

Through the coated glass, the eight vampires watched the sun rise in the east. Even through the thick metal of the monument they heard the scream. Standing on the top of the Arch, outside the safety of the protective glass and wrapped in Obfuscate to keep the citizens of the town from seeing the flare, Cynthia Deevers watched her first unfiltered sunrise in over two centuries.

Two weeks later, when Alyx was willing to talk through things, he learned who Ed Stokes had been to his wife. He held her as she sobbed through the fear, ensuring her that Stokes would never contact her, never reach her, and certainly never touch her again. After a while, she had settled down. Curling up next to Mike on the couch, she went back the book she'd been reading.

"Hey, what's that bookmark?" he asked.

Alyx closed her 'Harry Potter' book on her finger.

"This? I don't know, something Verena sent me in a birthday card. Told me to keep it safe, maybe give it to Eric Bowen, her sire, if I ever see him. Eh, makes a good bookmark, though."

"May I?" Karrde took the paper and read it.

Making a Gangrel into a puppet actually seemed like a pretty simple ritual.

**END**


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